The Wolf Among Us: The Lullaby Killer Ch 1: The Path Back to Normality
by GigglingDonkey
Summary: It's been some time after the incident with the Crooked Man shook Fabletown to its core. Big changes are afoot, as the citizens of Fabletown call out for political reform, criminal organisations fight to fill the power vacuum left by the Crooked Man, and there is a serial killer who targets fables roaming around. Fabletown will never be the same again.


The Wolf Among Us - The Lullaby Killer

Chapter I: The Path Back to Normality

By GigglingDonkey

Fables and fairytales are real. Forced into exile, the characters from the old stories found sanctuary in New York, where they now live in an enclave, designated _Fabletown_, disguised by glamour, and walking around in our midst, without our knowledge.

In an old, tattered armchair, inside the smallest accomodation of the _Woodlands Luxury Apartments Complex, _a figure sat slumbering, silhouetted from what little light which managed to fight its way through the grimey window. With its head tossing back and forth on the headrest, the dark figure was whimpering, then growling. Suddenly it bolted upright, out of breath and drenched in sweat.

"Wake up, Bigby!"

Bigby felt something rubbing up against against his shin. Peering down, he could roughly make out the shape of a pig from the surrounding darkness, pushing its snout against his leg.

"Colin?" Bigby's voice cracked. He wiped the sweat stinging his eyes.

"You're doing it again, mate." Colin said, worried.

Feeling the strain of his dry throat, Bigby pushed himself up off the chair and made his way to the kitchen. As he pressed down the lightswitch and illuminated the room, cockroaches fled under the fridge and into a crack in the wall; Bigby made a mental note to call _Pied Piper's Pest Control._

"What's it about?" Colin called out, from the other room.

"It's nothing." Bigby heard himself say automatically, in a low and tired voice.

"It's not nothing!" Colin pressed on, as he entered the door, "You need to cut that stoic shit out. That _lone wolf _routine doesn't suit you anymore. Not after what happened."

"What do you know about it?" Bigby asked, as he scoured the sink for a clean glass.

"What I **do** know," Colin took a deep breath, "is that you're clearly not alright. Ever since that night with the _Crooked Man_, you've been a damn mess."

Finally settling for a moderately clean glass, Bigby held it up toward the light bulb for further examination.

"And what?" Bigby blew away the dust that had settled at the bottom of the glass. "You expect me to spill my guts, blame my mother for.."

"No," Colin interrupted, "but you need to talk to someone about it."

"Why do you care?" Bigby turned on the tap and filled the glass with water.

"Because I can't fucking sleep, when you keep growling. It… it brings back memories." he finished rather lamely.

"There's always the farm." Bigby responded, with a faint grin.

"I'm serious, Bigby. Maybe Snow could help?"

"No." Bigby responded, a bit too quickly.

Colin raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"Snow has enough on her plate. She doesn't need me to pester her with this shit."

Snow White had temporarily taken on Ichabod Crane's duties as Fabletown's deputy mayor, after his disappearance, following the Crooked Man incident. It had shaken Fabletown to the core and its members, lead by Bluebeard, had called for a vote for the first time in living memory. Bluebeard had argued that King Cole ought to have caught on to Crane's embezzlement and done more to prevent the Crooked Man's consolidation of power. He'd even come down on Snow White, calling how she acted during the investigation an act of vigilantism.

"I'm sure she'd want you to."

"Colin, drop it."

"Fine." Colin sighed and lumbered out of the kitchen. "By the way, is the results in from the vote yet?"

Bigby drained the contents of the glass.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Who won?"

"Morozko."

"Who?"

"Father Frost; he's russian. Basically he rewards the good and punishes the bad. At least, according to his legend."

"Maybe you could talk to him then."

"Fine!" Bigby snapped, slammed the glass onto the counter and locking eyes with the pig, "What do you want me to say? How Mary's dead eyes and wicked smile are burned into my goddamn retinas? Or how everytime I close my eyes I see the Crooked Man falling into that fucking _witching well_?"

"So you're feeling guilty?" Colin continued cautiously.

Bigby snarled in non-committance.

"But you've taken a life before."

"Your point?" Bigby interrupted.

"Well," Colin said, choosing his world carefully, "it has never affected you like that before."

"That was different… I'm different. I'm not the _Big bad wolf _anymore."

"But Bloody Mary, that was survival."

"Yeah, maybe." Bigby capitulated, while gathering the broken shards of glass. "But the Crooked Man, I didn't have to throw him down the well."

"From what I heard, you kinda did, Bigby. They all wanted him dead. If you didn't do it, someone would."

"That doesn't mean it was the right thing to do." Bigby countered.

"Yeah. I guess…" Colin conceded.

"Forget it. I need to get some sleep before work." Bigby said as he exited the kitchen, flicked off the lightswitch, crossed the room and slumped back in the armchair. Colin remained in the kitchen doorway for a moment, before he too walked back to his cot, beside the television. Another moment passed in silence, before Colin broke it again.

"Hey Bigby?" he said tentatively.

"Yeah?" Bigby replied, while his eyes remained shut.

"Do you think it could be your glamour that is affecting you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, as you said. When you were a wolf you didn't feel any remorse or guilt. I mean it's a human trait. Could it be that your human glamour is making you more… You know, human?"

Another moment passed.

"Go to sleep, Colin."

The light knock on the door, was enough to awaken Bigby. Through the window, the morning sun was glaring in; the dust particles danced in its rays, revealing how untidy the apartment was. The knock persisted.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Bigby called out, as he, with an obvious effort, pulled himself up from the chair, yet again. "Colin, make yourself scarce." Turning the brass knob and pushing, revealed a spindly man who looked to be in his early twenties standing on the hallway. His eyes were hidden by red tufts of hair, poking out from an oversized green cap.

"Flycatcher," Bigby said with mild surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"Hey Bigby," Flycatcher answered in a low, soft voice, "Snow is looking for you."

"Why?"

"I dunno, man. Sorry. She told me to get you."

"Ok, I'll be down in a minute."

Bigby tried to close the door, but it wouldn't shut. Glancing down, he saw a sneaker halting his progress. He pushed it back open and saw Flycatcher, uncomfortable and a bit surprised by his own action.

"I'm sorry Bigby, she told me not to let you out of my sight until you were down there."

Bigby considered the statement for a moment, before grunting in resignment. It was to early to get into a argument. Besides Bigby liked Flycatcher, but thought he would greatly improve himself with the addition of a proper backbone.

Leaving Flycatcher in the doorway, Bigby made his way to the back to the living room table for his cigarette packet, brandishing the words _Huff n' Puff._ He sighed as he examined it and found that it only contained three cigarettes.

"Hey Fly." Colin said as he poked his head out.

"Hey Colin. How's it going?"

"You don't wanna know."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Ignore him." Bigby interjected, as he inspected himself in the mirror. He ran a hand through his red-tinted hair, before giving it up as a lost cause, grabbed the keys, and the two shuffled out of the apartment.

An all too familiar scene greeted Bigby at the Fabletown offices, a few stairs down from his apartment. The hallway was donned with a long line of fables, waiting for an audience with a government official.

"Hey Bigby." Flycatcher said over general murmur. "Did you hear? They managed to track down Crane."

"Really?" Bigby said, somewhat baffled. "I'm a bit surprised he managed to last this long; he wasn't exactly streetsmart."

"Yeah. Well, after the _Magic Mirror _finished mending itself, it showed him hiding in an apartment for weeks. Last night, however, he left it for some reason and the mirror got the location."

A second of silence passed between the wolf and frog, giving the information time to sink in.

"Good." said Bigby with awful finality.

As the two made their way passed the crowd, Bigby heard the sound of a prepubescent child.

"Hey mister," the voice said, "are you cutting the line?"

Bigby turned to find a girl, he had never seen before. The girl was looking him straight in the eyes with piercing green eyes. Bigby was taken aback for a moment, most adults tended to avoid eye contact with him, if they could help it. A remnant of his past life as the nightmare of many. Bigby tried to smile towards the girl, but the act of it was unfamiliar and awkward.

"I work here, kid." tried to convey in an reassuring voice, but failed.

"Yeah?" came a voice Bigby had no trouble recognising. "You could'a fooled me."

As Bigby's gaze traveled past the girl, it landed on a thin man, with mismatched eyes and a permanent scowl.

"Gren."

Bigby felt a twinge of guilt. Gren's arm was in a sling and he was brandishing a nasty scar, both courtesy of Bigby. During the investigation into the _Crooked Man_, the two had gotten into an altercation a few weeks earlier.

"How's your arm?" Bigby asked.

"That's _The Big Bad Wolf_," apparently informing the girl, although maintaining eye contact with Bigby "and he does whatever he damn pleases."

Bigby saw the girl silently mouthing the word "Wolf"

"You're scaring the kid, Gren."

"You just wait until I tell her what happens when you cross her."

Bigby gave him a look that would make lesser men cower. Gren made to say something, but Bigby was quicker.

"I don't have time for your sh.." his eyes flickered to the girl and back, "...stuff, right now."

Bigby turned and together with Flycatcher pushed past the rest of the queue until they eventually reached the door labeled "Fabletown Administration."

The space inside had been enlarged many times over, by enchantment, to allow for all the necessities one would need in order to run a somewhat successful government. Bigby found Snow White buried behind stacks of think, leather-covered books; Bufkin was fluttering around the magic mirror. Since the _Crooked Man-incident _Snow had hardly left the office. However, despite her best efforts, Fabletown had grown unstable. While some had managed to take advantage of the situation, most felt they had become even more marginalized.

"Hey, miss White. U-um, ma'am." Flycatcher corrected himself, as he approached Snow's desk, "I brought Bigby." Evidently he didn't find the need to be as formal towards the sheriff.

"Good. Will you please help Bufkin," Snow White indicated the flying monkey now hovering around by one of the large bookcases, "make this place a bit more presentable."

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's up, Snow?" Bigby asked.

"You look terrible." She said exasperated. "Couldn't you at least make an effort to look professional?"

"Do you really care Morozko will care what I look like?"

"I care, Bigby. I care."

"Fine, I'll go make myself more.. presentable, then."

"No, Morozko and King Cole will arrive any moment now. Just," Snow paused as she looked Bigby up and down, "tuck in your shirt, please."

Although Bigby put on a smile, he did not manage to conceal his thought of this suggestion.

"Don't worry Bigby. I'm sure everything will be fine." Snow said, unconvincingly.

"It's just," Bigby began explaining, "I'm no good at first impression. People tend to be a bit on edge when they realise they're talking to the Big Bad Wolf."

The edges of Snow's mouth widened, as it cracked into a smile. That was quickly followed by another change of moods, as tears ran down Snow's cheeks. She covered her face with her hands. Bigby stood stunned, whiplashed into silence by her moodshift.

"Bigby.." Snow said, "What am I going to do?"

It dawned on Bigby what Snow was going through, must have gone through ever since Bluebeard called for the ousting of King Cole. How it must have been building up more and more, until now, moments before the verdict.

"Snow," Bigby said, in a calm and confident voice, "everyone, **everyone**, knows that you are the the heart and soul of Fabletown. That if it weren't for you and all the effort you put into your job, none of this would work."

Snow White peeked through her fingers at Bigby.

"And besides," Bigby continued, "if they do replace you, they'll have to replace their sheriff as well."

Bigby left Snow at her desk, to give her a moment to pull herself together, and made his way to Bufkin, who was now back to hovering by the magic mirror. In it he could see two overweight men. Bigby recognised the man on the left in a dull suit, bow tie and with a bushy mustache as King Cole. The man next to him, in a light blue robe and with facial hair to make Merlin jealous, had to be Morozko.

"So that's him then?" Bigby asked.

Bufkin, who was wholly engrossed with the image the mirror displayed, fell out of the air in surprise, when addressed.

"Hi Bigby!" he screeched after regaining his posture.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Ha! I guess I'm a bit nervous." and he looked it. "Ah!" he remembered the question, "Yes, that's him!"

"What's to be nervous about?" Bigby asked, "If he's anything like King Cole, you won't see much of him."

In all the centuries Bigby had been acting as sheriff of Fabletown, he could count on one hand how many times he had seen King Cole at the business offices.

"Haven't you heard his legend, Bigby? Bufkin asked, in a conspiratorially voice.

"Yeah. He rewards the good and punishes the bad."

"Not quite. He rewards those who are good to **him, **and punishes the one who displeases **him.**"

Comprehension dawned on Bigby.

"No wonder Bluebeard went to bat for him."

"Yeah," Bufkin said, in contemplation, "that kinda makes sense. I wondered why he didn't run for mayor himself."

"Not his style." Bigby said knowingly, as he lit his second-to-last cigarette, "He's more of a kingmaker; he likes wealth and power, but not the attention. He likes working in the dark and behind the scenes."

As the door opened, everyone inside the offices scurried into line in front of Snow White's desk. The two men who entered were in deep conversation, but Morozko held up a hand to King Cole. Although not intended to be rude, King Cole was clearly offended, but didn't act on it.

Morozko turned to find the four other people in the room and put on a wide smile, which Bigby noticed didn't reach his eyes. Morozko walked up to Snow White and stuck his hand out.

"Miss Vite, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." he said, in a thick russian accent, "King Cole speaks very highly of you."

"Thank you Mr Frost."

"Please call me Morozko, Miss Vite."

She nodded, and he turned to Flycatcher.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know your name, boy."

"I'm Flycatcher, sir."

"And what do you do here?"

"Community service."

"He keeps on breaking the Fabletown laws," Bigby explained, after noticing Morzoko attempting to make sense of Flycatcher's statement, "He keeps on eating bugs in front of mundys."

"It's just in my nature." Flycatcher continued, with a cheesy grin.

Morozko left Flycatcher and turned this time to Bigby.

"You I know, of course." He said, regaining his smile. "Our own local hero. Fabletown owes you a great deal, sheriff."

"Just doing my job."

"And modest, as vell." Morozko exclaimed in laughter and patted Bigby on the shoulder.

He lastly turned to Bufkin, who was staring back with wide eyes.

"Who might you be?"

"I'm Bufkin, sir!"

"I see. And what do you do here Bufkin?"

"I help Miss White, sir!"

Morozko nodded and took a couple of steps back, as to address everyone.

"Now that the pleasantries are over, ve move to business." Morozko said, still smiling, "First of all, for this stagnant community to evolve change is needed, but there is still a need for stability. Therefore, my vish is for you all to continue in your current capacity. I vant you all to continue your vork here." he added as he saw Bufkin's bewildered expression, "However, there is also a need for certain adjustments to be made. I will personally take a more hands-on approach, than my predecessor. Moreover, there are to be some additions to the staff." Morozko turned yet again to Bufkin, "I'm going to need you to furnish the room vith three more desk, by tomorrow."

"Yes sir!"

"Mr Frost," Snow White interrupted, "not that I'm complaining, but I'm afraid the budget won't allow for three additional employees."

"There won't be additional employees; two of the desks are for me and Ichabod Crane's replacement. There are only to be one new position here. Not counting the new deputy sheriff."

"I don't," Bigby began protesting, but was cut off by Snow White.

"Still, the budget won't cover it."

"You leave the budget concerns to me, Miss Vite." Morozko said, and turned to the door. "We can speak about it more tomorrow. I'm afraid I will have to go. I am expected to address the citizens of Fabletown."

Bigby left the offices some time later, feeling sorry for Bufkin and Flycatcher who had to remain and endure Snow's foul mood. Upon entering the main lobby, Mr Grimble, the Woodlands apartment complexes main security man, beckoned over Bigby to his desk.

"This came for you," Grimble said, as he handed over a somewhat large package.

"Thanks," Bigby examined the brown package; it was bound in simple twine, and it had no information on it. "Who is it from?"

"I don't know. Didn't recognise the delivery man either."

"Hm, ok."

Bigby took the elevator, stepped out into a narrow hallway, and made his way to the door labeled "Sheriff - B. Wolf".

Upon entering the office, Bigby placed the package down on the table and took a seat. He produced the crinkled packet of Huff n' Puffs and retrieved the last cigarette in it. He inhaled the smoke, left it stewing in his lungs for a second, and exhaled. He crumbled the packet in his free hand, took aim at the wastebasket and threw it. It missed. He raised his arms over his head and stretched. The parcel on, now on his desk, was underwhelming. Bigby undid the knot and removed brown wrapping paper. What remained was an unmarked box. He removed the lid and took a look at what was under it. With a jolt he tossed the box back on the desk in shock. The noise of bone meeting wood reverberated around the room, as what was unmistakingly a human thigh bone fell out of it. Bigby took a deep breath, to gather himself, and slowly peered at the desk to examine the object. Someone had crudely carved something on it - _Give the dog a bone_.


End file.
